Must Be Magic
by KateFaulkner24
Summary: Abracadabra, alakazam… BAM! Said the lady, and that was that. Castle/Beckett… kinda, Spoilers for "Poof! You're Dead!" 3x12


**Title:** Must Be Magic  
**Rating:** A Fluffy K  
**Pairing:** Castle/Beckett… sorta.  
**Disclaimer:** No greater joy can I claim / than watching _Castle_ and I will proclaim / that though I borrow the story sometime / it's Marlowe's joy, it is not mine.  
**Author's Note:** Uh… I don't know about you guys, but I watch my _Castle_ DVD's. REPEATEDLY. So when a little niggle of a detail popped up while I was watching "Poof! You're Dead!", I couldn't resist. He, he. Sorry, I just couldn't. Also, don't hate me for the way it ends; Castle's just being a boy.

Also, I have a very ambitious project that I wanted to ask people about… you tell me in a PM or a review if it's a very good idea. I was thinking of starting a project called "Castle- Lost Echoes". It's an ambitious project that would take the current canon of Castle and turn it on its head; I want to tell an AU version of my favorite pairing, making Kate the writer and Castle the detective. Let me know if it's a project worth pursuing. Anyway, enjoy!

**Summary:** Abracadabra, alakazam… BAM! Said the lady, and that was that. (Castle/Beckett… kinda)

* * *

_CASTLE:_ The murder is here? At Drake's Magic Shop?  
_BECKETT:_ Yep.  
_CASTLE:_ I've been coming here since I was thirteen years old. This place is a paradise for boys. Whoopee cushions, magic tricks, fake vomit.  
_BECKETT:_ It's not just for boys, Castle. My grandfather was an amateur magician and I used to come here every Sunday afternoon when I was that age, too.  
(-"Poof, You're Dead!" 3x12)

* * *

Grampy always took her to the coolest places. She lived in Queens all her life, in the same house, in the same neighborhood, and no matter what happened, no matter where they went, it was always someplace new. Someplace cool. And today (TODAY!) Was no exception.

Drake's Magic Shop, the wonderland of all novelty stores.

Katie's ponytails bobbled on the side of her head, and the absent drip, drip, dripping of her ice cream cone didn't even deter her from staring wide-eyed at the metallic rings, the whoopee cushions, even a set of magic wands that turned into bundles of flowers if you pulled a certain string down the side. Magic was every kid's dream, every kid's obsession no matter how young or old you were. Something about the way someone could levitate a woman in air or make a car disappear tickled the entertainment tastebuds and brought out the child in everybody. Grampy did a few tricks here and there, and they still surprised the heck out of her to this day. And now, he was taking her to the Mecca of Magic? Brooklyn's best kept secret in the sleight of hand? Excited could eat giddy for breakfast; she was beyond excited.

"You ready, Katie?" Grampy asked, kneeling down to kiss her on the forehead. Thirteen and still short, her growth spurt hadn't kicked in yet… ugh.

"Can I get something?" she asked, hazel eyes in that pouty look she knew she was famous for. "Please?"

He laughed. "Of course! That's why we're here, right? To," he reached towards her ear and produced a coin. "make a little magic?"

She rolled her eyes. "Grampy, you've done that trick a million times."

"And you still love it. Admit it!"

"…Ok," she said, halfway halfhearted. She gave him a hug. "Thanks, Grampy."

She ran inside the shop, gazing at all the brightly colored scarves sitting on the table as she came in. There were red ones, blue ones, yellow and green. They almost begged her to touch them, and so she did, gingerly feeling the smooth tidbits of fabric with the very tips of her fingers. They were so beautiful, patterned with gold swirls and foiled stars. What would she do with them first? Pretend to make a quarter disappear? Turn it into a dove? Wear it in her hair to impress a boy? She laughed at the last one. Yeah right. Whatever, like she'd really do that. She was too busy watching _True Lies_ and listening to Aerosmith to really pay attention to boys. They didn't talk to her much, and that was fine with her. She'd beat them up for messing with her anyway.

"Hey, can I help you?" The voice startled her, and her jump caused a ruckus as a display rack toppled over. CRASH!

"Oops," she said guiltily, bending to pick everything up.

"It's ok," said the voice again, and she managed to raise her eyes high enough to see who it was. Blue eyes met hers with a little wink. "They were begging to be tossed. I heard them." He was cute. Old, but cute, maybe 20ish? About 5'10ish? Probably taller, she acknowledged. He was wearing a "Drake's Magic Shop" blue apron, with a nametag in the shape of a bunny coming out of a hat; the name on it said "Ricky" in a calligraphic script. A flannel red shirt with pulled up sleeves rested underneath, and he was wearing jeans with hole in the back pocket that said hello as he squatted this way and that, trying to help her pick up the magic pamphlets and finding them scattered everywhere.

Wait, back pocket? Katie blushed, embarrassed. Why was she looking at his butt? Eww.

"There you go, miss," he said, "Never better."

"Thank you…Ricky?"

He grimaced. "Rick is fine. Though not Ranger Rick, that gets annoying. Or Ricardo. I'm not some Spanish pinup boy."

"Maybe you're a pinup man," she said without thinking, and slapped a hand over her mouth. "Oh jeez, I'm sorry! I don't think!"

Rick laughed, amused. "It's ok, it happens all the time. It must be my magic charm." He stacked the pamphlets together and stuck them back in their respected slots, reset the rack, and held out his hand towards her. "Need a hand?" She nodded, and he helped her up. "You let me know if you need anything, ok?"

"Ok," she said, smiling back at him. "I will." She watched him waltz back to the counter he protected before Hurricane Kate came in, resettling himself into his probably usual stance against the counter, elbows on top, staring down at a huge pad of paper. She studied him as he absently retrieved his lost pencil, started chewing at the nub of an eraser, and stared owlishly at the blank page. He was odd. Normally, she saw people do that with homework, not just for fun. Writing didn't seem like fun, just something you had to do if you were a kid with after school work to do, or if you were an adult and you had real work to do. But to do that for fun? What? Intrigued, she wandered over to the counter and piped up, "Uh… Ricky?"

Ricky looked up and smiled. "Hi again. What's up? You looking to make your brother disappear?"

"I don't have a brother."

"Me neither. What a coinky-dink." He poked the pad with his pencil, and frowned. "This isn't going good."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to write a story about a man and a pinup lady but it's not working."

She giggled. "Why a peanut lady?"

He roared with laughter. "NO, not a peanut lady. 'Pinup' lady. The opposite of what you called me earlier." He tapped the pad with his pencil. "But this isn't writing. It's not doing what I want it to do and I don't know why."

"How can you not know why? Aren't you the one who's writing it?"

"Ahh, but that's the magic of writing. I never know what I'm going to get once I start."

"How?" He intrigued her now.

"See, I'm a writer. An amateur novelist, if you want to call me that, and I'm writing my first book. There's this one scene where the killer actually meets his next intended target, and they become friends. That's before he decides to kill her to fulfill his already deteriorating sense of morality due to the death of his mother at the hand of a vicious, cruel drug lord-slash-kingpin. And all the while, there's this heroic second guy named Nathan Reynolds who I want to swoop in and save the day. He realizes what's going on and he saves his girl from the killer, and she falls madly in love with him. It's the first thing I've ever wanted to write, but the thing is, I don't know how to write the confrontation, the one where the girl meets with the killer. I can't seem to figure it out."

Kate looked at him and shrugged. "I don't know. Can't you just have the butler doing it?"

"Huh?"

"That's what you do in _Clue_. The butler always does it."

He rolled his eyes. "Naw, I'll think of something," he said, putting his things below the cash register. "Maybe if I sleep on it, I'll get to it."

"Katie?" She turned around and saw Grampy, holding a few of the scarves that she had fingered earlier. "You ready to go?"

"Yes, sir," Katie replied, and looked back at the cute cash boy. "We'll take the scarves, please."

He nodded. "A good choice, miss. I'll ring you up immediately. And, you ring me if you ever think of a good way to get the girl and the killer to talk, ok?"

"Ok," she grinned, and handed him a wad of cash. "I'll sleep on it too!"

* * *

When she had left the shop, eighteen-year-old Ricky smiled again, charmed as all get out. Yeah, he still had it! He was always smooth with the ladies, and he still had it, with a girl or not… Working in a magic shop for the summer? Lame? Yeah, he'd tell Meredith differently. Oh yeah, he would—and the brunette was cute. Too young for him, but cute. And he still had the charm, the schmooze, the charisma. Yeah, baby! Ricky Rogers was back in action!

"'Bam', said the lady," he murmured, and grabbed a dust rag. "…and she raised the gun directly at his chest, a hail of bullets ready to slay the heart…" He paused, and grinned. "Yeah, I still got it. Thanks, Katie-whatever-your-name-is. Inspiration. Must be magic."


End file.
